Tagged!
by Hardly Here
Summary: My participation in CodyRhodesFan's tagging game. Drew McIntyre/CM Punk AU fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, I got tagged in CodyRhodesFan's thingy, so here goes!**

**You're meant to have five short fics for the five prompts, but I'm going to have five chapters for the five prompts. **

**Also, you put your ipod on shuffle and use one song for each.**

_**Prompts:**_

_**1. Serenade of Roses  
2. Kisses and Angels  
3. Splice the Rainbow  
4. Diamond Ring  
5. Baby's Sleep**_

_*******_

**Serenade of Roses  
Song: **Angel's song – Chloe Agnew.**  
For: **Miss Kimberly, of course ^_^**  
Note: **Okay, so Ayr is ages away from the highlands. So sue me.

***

A faint rustle spread through the fold forest, and if one listened carefully one might hear the sound of a soft panting for breath.... possibly. The runner's footsteps fell with equal sureness on rock, moss or leaves. Loose hair threaded with braids fluttered behind him, and the cloak end of his kilt was fastened securely around his waist for easy travelling. At his side was fastened his sturdy knife, and an old rosewood flute which was a family heirloom.

Drew knew his way around the forest, and moved with the undulating rhythm of the earth. As a boy he had been quick to learn how to sneak up on people – they never heard him coming. This was the reason why the elders had sent him after the stranger. He had been following the horse's tracks for a couple of hours now, and had found said horse grazing placidly on his own just a few minutes ago. The stranger clearly had no idea whose horse he had stolen – Dubbin ran when he wanted to run and stopped when he wanted to stop, unless you knew how to control him properly.

The footprints he was now following were flecked with blood which still glistened - he was close. He slowed down to a slow jog as he saw the lone figure slumped beneath a nearby tree. The stranger seemed too lost in his own thoughts to notice his own surroundings, and his hand clutched tightly at his side, where his tunic was stained a dark red. Drew approached on his left side, using a particularly large tree for cover so he could catch his breath. He was so close he could make out the coarse fabric of the man's shirt – a cut he could not identify. The stranger shifted awkwardly, then let out a groan of pain. His looks were pale and tired; he would not last the night like this.

But a wounded animal was twice as dangerous, and so Drew proceeded with caution. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his knife, and he eased his way out from behind the tree.

"Stranger," he began, but the man began to panic.

"D-dont come near me!" he gasped, trying in vain to shuffle backwards, half-rising and then stumbling to his knees once again.

"I won't come with you!"

It took Drew a while to figure out what he was saying – his tongue seemed full of strange, harsh sounds.

"I ain't gonnae hurt ye," he said softly, sheathing his knife and holding out both hands to show they were empty.

"I just want tae know who ye are."

Terrified eyes scanned him for any sign of danger. Certainly if they got into a fight there was no question as to who would win – the larger man standing before him was well-built and healthy. Sweat glistened on his skin and his chest still heaved a little from the run, but considering the distance from the town, he was in excellent shape. The stranger forced his eyes upwards, and met a calm blue gaze. It was almost friendly, despite the Scot's knowing smirk.

"I... uh... My name's Phil."

"Phil?" The smirk grew into a genuine smile, "A nice name." He knelt down next to Phil, and extended a hand, "I am Drew. Of the McIntyre clan."

Phil simply nodded and squirmed a little, sighing when he couldn't get comfortable. The sun was setting fast, and there was no way they were going to make it back to town before darkness fell. Drew detached the cloak end of his kilt, and wrapped it around Phil's shoulders.

"There's folk who would'nae like ye wearin' me tartan, so haud yer wheesht 'bout it. Be back in a minute." Drew winked and was off to find some wood to burn for the night.

Phil pulled the thick, woollen cloth a little more tightly around his shoulders and sighed. His eyelids were already beginning to flutter closed; he caught himself falling asleep a few more times before he gave up, blackness seeming to swallow him whole.

***

When he surfaced, he found that someone was humming and that there was a pleasant warmth surrounding him. The sun was just sending its last dying rays over the horizon, but there was a crackling fire built up in front of him, which seemed to be the source of the heat. He realised that the throbbing in his side had also subsided somewhat, and he looked down to find that his shirt had been removed and his wounds had been bandaged. The green leaves of some kind of foreign poultice emerged from the sides of the torn-up cloth. He looked up, and found that he was lying in the lap of the strange Scotsman who had found him. He was sitting in his undershirt, having used his tunic for the bandages, and had left the front of it undone. Phil swallowed hard, and blinked.

The warm glow of the firelight highlighted the strong contours of his body and jawline, and when Drew realised he was awake, he looked down and there was fire dancing in his eyes.

"Thank you," mumbled Phil, trying for a faint smile.

"Nae problem. Are ye comfortable?"

"Yes. Well, more comfortable than I'd be on my own."

Drew chuckled quietly, wary of the way his movements might affect the other man. He resumed humming quietly. It was nice. Soothing. Phil felt the darkness once again creep at the edges of his vision, and allowed his eyes to slide shut again.

***

All through his dream, the odd tune Drew had been humming floated through the back of his mind, and when he woke a few hours later, it was still playing. This time though, it was the warm, light sound of some kind of flute. It was pretty.

Drew seemed to notice he had woken again, because he stopped playing and lay a hand gently on his forehead.

"I'm meant tae take ye back into town. So as they can question ye." He told Phil this tentatively. The elders were notoriously suspicious of any strangers, and it could not be promised that they would be kind to the wounded man. As expected, Phil stiffened in fear.

"Don't make me-" he began to plead, but then his fists clenched. He was not some weakling to be trampled over.

"I won't go with you." He hissed. He began to try and disentangle himself from the cloak -and from Drew's legs - but his body immediately protested, sending a sharp ache through his side.

"Easy there," Drew pushed him back down firmly,"I will'nae tell them I found ye. When ye feel a touch better I'll lend ye a horse."

Phil raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Why would you do that?"  
"I donnae ken. 'Cos I like ye."

Phil shook his head.

"I'm fairly sure you're going to change your mind about that soon."

*******

**Tagged: Captaindynamite, Joel182 and Cotopaxi.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Dear Miss Kimberley, Jack Swagger is NOT HOT.**

**I love you anyway ^_^ I felt like I should post this chapter so it's ready for when you wake up - in apology for my being detained by dickhead guitarists.**

**To everyone else who reviewed – Thanks so much! I wasn't entirely sure what people would think of a highland AU fic cos, well, it's weird. So thanks! ^_^**

**Prompt: Kisses and Angels.**

**Song: The Land Torments The Sea – Finn Brothers**

**X**

"I'm soory Uncle, I found Dubbin but I could'nae find the stranger. I'll have a look again tonight, if ye want it, though."

"Cannae think of anyone else better for the job," winked his uncle, accepting the reins of the horse.

"If ye don't mind me askin'... Why do ye want him alive?"

There was a sigh, and Drew could tell that his uncle was choosing his words very carefully.

"He's... He belongs 'tae someone, who's wantin' him back. And the man who's wantin' him back... is'nae the patient type. D'ye ken?"

"Aye, uncle."

Drew inclined his head respectfully and left the stables to go think this over.

**X**

When Phil woke for the third time, the fire was mere scraps of glowing embers, and the grayish morning light of the highlands had already settled. He was aware of a distinct lack of the heat that had been so forthcoming when he had fallen asleep. Green eyes fluttered open, and Phil found himself all alone, still wrapped in the warm piece of tartan.

Sitting up sent a sharp bolt of excruciating pain through his side, so he lay back down. That was another strange thing. He was lying on something soft and very, very comfortable. A welcome change from the intertwining tree roots he had had to endure these past few days. A short struggle to look below him revealed that he was lying on a pile of some kind of feathery plant.

_I really did not deserve that_ He sighed mentally.

A rustle nearby snapped him to attention, sending another twinge through his side.

"Ye have 'tae learn no' 'tae do that." smiled Drew, setting down a small bundle he was carrying.

"Have..." Phil paused to take in Drew's heavy breathing, tousled hair and the glimmer of sweat on his skin.

"Did you just run into town and back?"

"Aye, and I'm a wee bit tired from it too, if it's all the same t'you." He sat down next to Phil and unwrapped the bundle, taking out a small hunk of bread and cheese.

"Thanks." Phil accepted the meal shyly, "for everything, really."

"'Nae problem."

There was silence between them then, for quite a long time. Drew fiddled with the feathery plant that he had picked to make Phil comfortable, ripping various stalks of it to shreds.

"Uncle... the man ye stole the horse from... He told me there's other people after ye."

He left the question hanging, and Phil decided at that moment that the tartan he was wrapped in was very interesting. He focused his gaze on it, tracing the blue and green lines with the tip of his finger. If he told Drew everything, there was no way he was going to be allowed to leave. But on the other hand, something in his gut wrenched at lying to his rescuer.

"I... I owe a life-debt to a man. And he makes me do things I don't like doing, so I ran away. And he wants me back."

Drew snorted.

"What sort of things?"

"I... well, just things. That I didn't like."

"You're a horrible liar."

Phil could have melted at the sound of those words. Horrible liar. The scot rolled them around his mouth so beautifully.

"What?" Drew was looking at him strangely.

Phil blinked.

"What what?"

"I just called ye a horrible liar, and ye started smilin' like a loony."

_Ah, shit._

Thankfully, Drew just chuckled, shook his head and started playing his flute. It wasn't a bad way to pass the time; the tune seemed like it had been a part of the woods forever, and he had simply plucked it from its existence. It was calming. Beautiful. Just like him.

As the hours slid past, they began to talk too – although by some unspoken agreement they skirted around the issue of Phil's immediate past. They talked about the town, the woods, and the strange land called America, where Phil was from. They found that although they occasionally had trouble understanding each other, they could come to an agreement on two things: One, they hated the English. Two, they each thought the other was the loveliest thing they had ever seen.

The second though, took a little longer to come out.

The sun was beginning its afternoon trek across the sky, and from where Phil lay, gave Drew's hair a faint, glowing outline.

"You look like an angel." Blurted out Phil.

Drew laughed and raked a hand through his braids.

"Ma always said I looked like a scraggy de'il" He paused and bit his lip.

"Ye'r no' too bad yerself."

Where to from here? Well, if Drew had been a girl he knew exactly what he would have done.

The scot answered for him, leaning over – ever mindful of his injuries. Phil was aware of Drew's face, centimetres away from his own. Then, under the cover of the deserted woods, they kissed.

Phil raised his hand tentatively to cup the back of the other man's head and brought the two of them closer. Drew responded to his touch more fully than any woman he had ever bedded, and Phil swore he could feel both their heartbeats hammering away almost in sync. When their bodies touched, it seemed as though they were floating, since Drew was so careful with him, making sure there was no pressure on the man he was leaning over. Phil tried to shift into a better position, but then let out a sharp cry of pain. Immediately the floating sensation was gone, replaced with a far more familiar feeling.

"I'm sorry." He breathed, letting Drew push him gently back onto his makeshift bed.

"'Nae problem."

X

**Soory! That's all for tonight, because I'm going to go pass out from the throbbing in my head. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Prompt: **Splice the Rainbow

**Song: **Ghost of Perdition - Opeth

**Note: **Well this song should be interesting to say the least. When I logged out of msn so abruptly I forgot to save the incredibly good-looking pictures of Drew :(So there goes like half my inspiration.

X

Several days passed, and Drew would daily make the journey into the woods where Phil was hidden, just to talk and pass the time together. He would bring food and water, and every morning Phil would wake to find a fresh bed of the strange plant had been picked for him. It was a struggle for Drew, which he tried to hide; but he would have to complete his duties twice as fast, and the constant running to and from the town was wearing on him. Eventually, exactly a week later, Drew simply fell asleep with Phil, and in the morning, Phil found that he had to wake him.

Drew jumped up with a start, and began digging about wildly for his things.

"Ah shite, I cannae believe I let myself fall asleep like that," he mumbled, slipping the string attached to his flute around his waist and pulling it tight. He dusted himself off, and sighed irritably.

"Are ye comfortable?"

"Yes, yes... I can't begin to thank you for everything you've done."

"'Nae problem."

"No, but it is!" Phil sat up, relishing the fact that there was barely a twinge left in his wound.

"Taking care of me's tiring you out."

Drew smiled and shook his head, "I like it. Makes me happy, bein' wi' you. But I really got 'tae be off." And at that, he sprang off nimbly through the woods.

X

As he neared the town, Drew noted immediately that something was wrong. People moved through the streets with their heads bowed, eyes downcast. Nobody stopped to chatter in the street, or to marvel at a neighbour's new horse. And around the council house there seemed to be an invisible force field, since nobody ventured near it. Drew darted around the back and crept up to a window.

"You have control of the lands for acres and acres all around. Don't tell me that you can't locate a single person in those woods."

"I ha' me best man on it, I swear 'tae ye! Mebbe the man's a wee bit less hurt than ye thought."

"I shot him in the side, enough to stop him moving too far, but not enough to kill him."

"Look," Drew's uncle paced into his view, and he observed the old man was deeply troubled by the way his forehead creased into a frown,

"I don't think a man hurt like ye said would be likely 'tae get too far on the land. He's like to be dead by now."

"I want to make sure."

A huge, hulking mass of a man moved into view. Drew shifted backwards a little, but he swore those beady eyes flickered his way, if only for a moment.

"This man is dangerous. He has in his possession very sensitive... documents. Concerning our king."

"He hardly sounds like it if ye managed 'tae get a shot in so easily."

"Yes, and I wonder how you'd feel if you'd been beaten around and starved for a few days by our finest prison guards. He's dangerous, alright. If he makes it back to town – if he isn't already here – he could destroy your little town and everything in it."

Drew fell back, out of sight of the window, and allowed his cheek to rest on the cold stone of the council house. What sort of a man had he gotten himself involved with?

His legs already ached, but he had to make another run that day. Had to find out.

X

Phil was building up the fire for that evening when Drew arrived. He had found he could move around sufficiently to set up some simple traps, and caught a rabbit.

Night fell quickly, he had found, and he had to start when there was still light or else he wouldn't be able to see what he was doing. He looked up in alarm as Drew skidded to a halt in front of him, and collapsed onto his knees.

"Tell me – I have 'tae know..." He panted, "Everyone's in danger because 'o ye..."

He took in the other man's stricken expression, and softened a little.

"I'll try not 'tae get too mad, promise. But I have 'tae know."

_I don't deserve you_, thought Phil sadly. _You're far too gentle._

"Rest a while... let me give you food for once. Then I'll tell you everything."

X

**PEROXWHY?GEN JUST CAME ON. AGAIN. IT IS HAUNTING ME. MAKE IT STOP. *angry face***


	4. Chapter 4

_**I'll give you something  
For when I'm not around to make you smile :)**_

**Prompt: Diamond Ring**

**Song: Pippin's song – Lord Of The Rings (Billy Boyd)**

So there it came that Phil and Drew sat side by side against a wide tree trunk, flicking bits of wood and grass into the fire. They both glowed in the golden light of the fire, and neither could stop their gaze from returning constantly to the other. Phil couldn't stop fidgeting, searching for a way to explain himself that would drive the magnificent man next to him away.

Drew seemed a little uneasy too, but neither of them could think how to begin.

"I..." Phil started, but he broke off.

"I donnae want 'tae force ye... but this is important..."

"No, you're not – I owe at least this much to you." Said Phil, staring down at his feet.

"I'm a spy. I was sent to England to help gather information on your King, but instead I got picked up by that huge hunk of man-shaped meat - You've probably met him..."

Drew nodded silently.

"He's not _really_ the bad guy here. I am. He's just trying to protect his country."

Phil sighed and continued staring at his feet. He couldn't bring himself to look the other man in the eye.

"I'm basically a rat. The scum of the earth." Phil spat into the fire, disgusted with himself.

"Would ye give them the information if I let ye go?"

"I was..." Phil's voice was thick from unshed tears, "I-I was planning to g-go back and tell t-them everything," he whispered. Tears began to run silently down his cheeks, and he brought his knees up to his chest and buried his head between them. He couldn't ever look at Drew again. His shoulders began to tremble as he started to sob quietly, wanting nothing more than just to disappear into the cold earth and die.

Drew wasn't like him. He didn't just look after himself. He looked after the town. His uncle. And he'd looked after Phil, too.

_I'm disgusting._

A hand was placed gently in between Phil's shoulderblades, making him jump. It began to trace light circles on his back, trying to soothe him.

_Hasn't he left yet?_

But no, Drew was still sitting there beside him while he cried, humming that same song to him. Then he began to sing. The tune was familiar, it was the one he had played on his flute the first night they had met. But now there were words, and for a fleeting instant the world made sense to him.

_Home is behind, the world ahead._

_There are many paths to tread_

_Through shadow_

_To the edge of night_

_Until the stars are all alight_

_Mist and Shadow_

_Cloud and shade_

_All shall fade_

_All shall... fade._

When the song ended, strong arms pulled Phil close, but he began to struggle out of the grasp.

"Why are you so nice to me?" He wept, pushing weakly at Drew's chest, "I'm ruining your life for you!"

"Hush-"

"No! I won't..." Drew snatched at him again, but he pulled away, "Stop it!" he gasped, beginning to rise, "Don't touch me!"

He sprang up and began to run away through the woods. He was unused to the terrain; overhanging branches and leave slapped him in the fact and clawed at his cheeks. It wasn't long before he slipped over in the dark, and crashed to the ground. Except he never fell, because someone caught him.

"No!" Screamed Phil, trying in vain to twist out of Drew's grip, "No, you're supposed to _hate_ me, what the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?"

Too late, the Scot had gotten a good grip on him, and slung the smaller man over his shoulder, carrying him back to their fire.

"Yer a stinkin' traiter," said Drew, placing the tip of his finger on Phil's nose, "and I _should_ hate ye. But somehow, I look at those pretty eyes ye have... And I just want 'tae..."

He leaned forward and claimed Phil's lips, and this time there was no injury to stop him from getting what he wanted.

X

**Tried to go further. Failed. Seriously, what originally came after that was about as sexy as naked-batista-butt.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Prompt: Baby's Sleep**

**Song: Come Sail Away – Styx**

**Good morning! Look at the sun! :)**

**Or if it's afternoon when you're reading this... whatever.**

**X**

Phil lay quietly with his head on Drew's chest, while the younger man played with his hair. It was relaxing and sweet and nice and all things he had never really given a thought to.

"You know, I escaped while they were taking me away to be tortured again. And I didn't want that. I was pretty tired..."

Drew's hand stopped fiddling and instead cupped the back of his head. He kissed his forehead lightly, and Phil's eyes slid shut with a small sigh.

"I was actually planning on finding the nearest cliff and jumping off. Or a river. I'd jump off a goddamn bridge and make a hole in the river. When that bastard shot me all I could think about was the fact that I wouldn't get to see the ocean one last time before I offed myself. Asshole screwed everything up."

He caught himself at that – no, he hadn't screwed everything up – being shot was the best thing that had ever happened to him. His lips continued moving unheeded, despite the tiny voice in his head that screamed at him to stop.

"Even while you were here taking care of me, I kept thinking of ways I could just end everything-"

"Ye'r thinkin' about this all wrong," Drew did not look impressed; his hand had fallen away and a deep frown creased his brow.

"No, let me finish. At first it was just because I didn't want to be taken back. Then it was because I didn't want to hurt you. And now..." He rolled off Drew's chest to kneel beside the bed of feathery plant.

_And now, to add another thing to the list of reasons why this guy should hate my guts_.

He reached under the leaves with shaking hands, and took out a knife. Drew sat up quickly – his hand twitched to go to his side where his own knife hung, but he decided no. He would see what Phil did first.

Phil was shaking so badly he could barely take the knife out of its sheath, but he managed it. In the glow of the firelight and the first rays of morning sunlight, Drew could make out an inscription across the blade.

_McIntyre._

"I've had it for a few days now." Phil could sense the other man tense, adjust his footing and shake the sleep from his head. He was readying himself for a fight, a sure sign he didn't trust Phil any more than he could throw him.

"Here." Phil held it out, making Drew jump slightly, "I don't want it anymore..."

Drew accepted it silently, re-attaching it to his side. To tell the truth, he was beginning to feel a slight twinge of annoyance at the older man. He was selfish, a quality he utterly abhorred. Selfish like a small child would be.

"I'm gonnae leave now." Said Drew quietly.

"I don't blame you."

"I donnae think I'm comin' back."

"That's alright. Because I'm coming with you."

Drew's eyes widened, but he nodded.

"Ye're a right ass, but that's a start."

X

The run back was murder. Twice they had to stop to let Phil catch his breath, and he would stand bent double, wheezing and gasping for air while Drew looked on with a faintly amused expression. By the time they reached the town, Phil was just about ready to collapse - drenched with sweat despite the frigid air – in the middle of the street.

"Yer Uncle's after ye, Drew," called a peddlar from his cart, but that was still the only sound that was coming from the townsfolk. Clearly the big man was still there.

Drew entered too quickly; he was slightly flustered and wasn't totally focused on the task at hand – he should have listened at the door first, because the gun that had been previously aimed at his uncle now pointed directly at his chest.

"Ah, so you've brought the little rat back with you finally. Just in time, too." The man motioned with his gun for Drew to bring Phil forwards.

"Can we no' talk about this?" Said Drew calmly,

"No, we cannot. This man is the scum of the earth, he has no loyalty to anyone. Stop defending him and hand him over."

"I cannae do that. He is a bit of a scoundrel, aye, but he's trying 'tae fix himself."

"He is not a child. He knows information that I must have. Now get out of my way or so help me I will shoot you first."

"What if he promises no' 'tae tell anyone?"

"Drew, are ye' alright in the head?" Growled his Uncle, "Just give him over and we'll all be back 'tae normal."

"I donnae _want_ 'tae go back 'tae normal."

"Why're ye riskin' everything for this... rat?"

"Because I-"

"Shut your mouths," snarled the man, cocking his gun

"Stop it!" Shouted Phil, "Stop it..." He pushed past Drew.

"I'll go with you. I'll testify to whatever you want, I'll tell you everything... Just leave him alone."

The man raised an eyebrow,

"You've been a naughty boy – it's going to hurt."

"Can't hurt more than what I've already done to Drew."

"Oh you break my heart. Come on then."

He holstered his gun and grabbed Phil roughly, tying his hands behind his back.

"W-wait." Drew inched closer to them, and grabbed Phil by the arm.

"What are ye gonnae do with him?"

"Better off you don't know, if you like him that much." Chuckled the man, "but don't worry, we won't kill him."

Drew came closer still, and when the man made no move to separate them, leaned in so close his lips brushed the other man's ear.

"I'll wait for ye."

It would have been so easy at that moment for Phil to collapse to the floor in tears. He had never felt so frightened in his life; the first thing he had ever really come to care about was about to be taken away. He wanted to scream and cry and claw out the eyes of the horrible man who had him bound. In his mind, he imagined doing all those things but he had to keep it under control. Letting go was for when they were together alone.

From Drew's guarded expression, and from the slight tremble in his touch he could tell he felt the same way.

_When we meet again, I'm going to take you to the beach, and we're going to have a boat, and I'm going to take you sailing... And you'll sing that angelic song of yours and I'll sit and listen to you for the rest of my life..._

"Ye're certainly no' a coward anymore, but I wish it didn't have to be like this." Said Drew, his eyes telling the full story behind those cautious words.

"Thank ye."

Phil smiled sadly at him, and planted a last kiss on his cheek as he was led away.

"'Nae problem."


End file.
